Poetry Corner - Pink Balloon

There is a pink balloon stuck to the village hall ceiling,

A show of frivolity absorbing the caretaker in thought,

A remembrance parade is about to bring a mass of feeling

Into the hall where the pink balloon hangs, out of reach, helium wrought.

Is the balloon given up, or is a kiddie crying and asking for it back?

Will it stay, or sink into the massed solemnity?

Should he stick a knife to his broom handle and give it a whack?

Is that kind of activity covered by the hall’s indemnity?

Should he burst the joyous bubble that shouts freedom

To celebrate brithdays as a given right?

Or should he let it bob and dangle over cadets to lead them

Into remembering all the good reasons not to fight?

Sarah Miller Walters

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Woods Ware China at the Serving Hatch - The Book!

I have now put together a book to accompany this blog, featuring all the best bits and much more besides, about the development and use of village halls over the past century. It costs £1.29 for a Kindle download and £3.99 for a printed version. Here's the blurb: "Enter any village hall and look at the noticeboard. The range of activities taking place these days is enough to keep anyone entertained. Cinema evenings, keep fit classes, scouts, Women’s Institute, St John’s Ambulance, lunch clubs, support groups - all keeping the physical and spiritual on the straight and narrow. Where would we be without the village hall? What a marvellous innovation, and one that seems to grow in importance as we realise that we have lost sight of community somewhat, and need to nurse it back to life. You might, if you were in a particularly philosophical mood while hanging around the vestibule, wonder where and how it all began." English village halls have been a fixture of our lands...

Bogarde's Beginnings

Village halls played a part in the early careers of many actors – some of them becoming world renowned. Who knows just how many household names first got a taste for the luvvie life at the local amateur dramatic society. Dirk Bogarde was certainly one of them, because he wrote about his experiences at Newick Village Hall, near Lewes. Dirk’s mother made the acquaintance of a Mrs Cox, whose husband was said to own the village hall. Dirk became good friends with the Coxs’ daughter and the family took to him, allowing him to indulge his teenage ambition of becoming a playwright. He wrote, and starred in “The Man on the Bench”, supported by Nerine Cox. It was performed around the time that Nazi Germany had marched into Austria – but a sparse audience with a lot on their minds nevertheless received it well. Mr Cox offered Dirk his first leading role shortly afterwards with the Newick Amateur Drama Society – Raleigh in R.C. Sherriff’s “Journey’s End”. “It was a tremendous ...

Dixon of Fingers Green

In what could be the script from a gentle BBC comedy of the 60s or 70s, the village policeman triumphed at the horticultural show in a small Kent village. The local bobby walked away from the Village Hall with 11 out of 14 prizes. A cub reporter from the local rag dared to ask the green fingered P.C. if he talked to his blooms, to which the answer came: "No." He was encouraged to elaborate: "Talking to them, singing to them, music, that's all a lot of tripe. There's no substitute for hard work. You have to treat them like children, water them and care for them." I suppose he's right. There are similarities. Both flowers and children are prone to infestations of little creatures. And they never quite turn out how you expect, but sometimes you're lucky. Have a look at my novella for more vintage gardening fun

Woods Ware China at the Serving Hatch

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